Go
by Spanky743
Summary: Grissom and Sara and go.


**Title:** Go  
**Author:** Spanky743  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing:** GSR  
**Summary:** The Free Dictionary gives 39 definitions of "go". These are six of them.

**Author's Note**: This is the first installment in a trio of stories. Many thanks to mingsmommy and, as always, liz00.

----

_**I. To Proceed**_

He wishes he could say he remembers the first time he saw her face. There was no moment where their eyes locked and his heart stopped and his life began; it was just a lecturer gathering his things and a student asking a question. He answered, and she asked another. He's sure that at some point he must have looked at her, but the details are gone.

There was a moment, however, when he stopped simply humoring her and started noticing her.

They had been engaged in their private Q&A session for quite some time when he realized that the others in the room were milling around, laughing with their friends and colleagues, deciding where to eat afterwards. Here he was describing the Hamman-Todd Collection when there were other things she could be doing.

"Well, right now there are over three thousand human skeletons and - I'm sorry, Miss..."

"Sidle. Sara," she replied, a little confused.

"Sara. I'm so sorry for taking up your afternoon. I tend to be a little long-winded."

"Oh no, it's fine. I have nowhere else to be. Please, go on."

_Go on. _

When he spoke at these conferences very few people, if any, ever came up after his lecture. And when they did, he could tell from their questions - the lack of depth, namely - that it was just a courtesy. He would answer, they would shake his hand and thank him for speaking, and then they would leave. The few times that he had given out his business card, he never received a call.

And yet here was this young, eager - and beautiful, he noted - CSI urging him to _go on. _She was different; she intrigued him.

He went on.

----

_**II. To Travel**_

She knows the exact moment when she became attracted to him. Sure, she had admired his features the moment she looked down at the lecture hall stage. With his slightly graying brown curls, bright blue eyes, half-smile, and non-athletic yet strong build, it was easy to notice his attractiveness. But it was when he subtly alluded to Keats while describing a crime scene that she became infatuated.

What she doesn't know is exactly when it became deeper than that.

After their single day together, she didn't see him for the remainder of the conference. She kept his business card in her wallet, though, hoping for the right opportunity to use it. It came less than a month later when she was assigned a case with a body infested with red-tailed flesh flies. Their life-cycle was far too unique and complicated to trust herself with just a textbook understanding.

That was how the e-mails began.

She knew something was wrong the minute she picked up her phone to hear his unfamiliar voice, and she was on the next available flight to Las Vegas.

"I can't believe I lived 28 years without ever coming to Vegas!" She told him over lunch, "I need to plan my next trip out here so I can actually do some sightseeing."

He smiled briefly before glancing uncomfortably out the window, then he spoke.

"Sara, I can't thank you enough for coming here. You really saved us."

"It was my pleasure to help. Really. Besides, I got to see your first days as a boss. I know you'll do great."

"Thanks," he replied. He was unsure of how to continue the conversation, but she couldn't think of anything to add, either. Maybe she really had been reading something in his emails that wasn't there.

Sara sighed, "Well, I really should get back to my hotel. My flight leaves early tomorrow and I still have to pa-"

"Don't go." He bit his lower lip before continuing, "With Holly's death and Brass moving to homicide, we're short on manpower. I - _we'd _- like you to consider joining our team."

She paused for a few moments, not thinking about the logistics of such a move or weighing the pros and cons for her career. No, her mind flashed images of the two of them enjoying a candlelit dinner; holding hands while strolling down the strip; grunting and panting between his sheets.

She had seen him for one day, corresponded for one year, and now she was considering uprooting her entire life for him. She didn't know when it happened, but she knew she had fallen for him.

_Don't go, _he'd said.

She didn't.

----

_**III. To Fail or Break Down**_

Nothing happened like it was supposed to.

He ignored her; avoided her; disrespected her.

He called her beautiful, then pretended it never happened.

He sent her into the arms of another man, yet acted as though she was the one in the wrong.

And when she decided to take matters into her own hands, he refused her dinner invitation.

She should have left, but as long as there was still a hope that someday they could be together, she knew she would stay.

It was when she heard his confessions to a murdered that she realized just how futile her hope was. His work was his life, and she was nothing more than the temptation threatening to destroy it.

She needed to let him go. A few beers helped.

Sitting alone and embarrassed at the police station while waiting for him to arrive, she wondered just how things had gone so wrong.

She would leave Las Vegas; she had to. Grissom could concentrate on his job without the distraction of her presence, and she could take a job at some other lab. There, she would meet someone who was willing to take a risk for her. She would have a family and perhaps some children - she was still young. And maybe someday she would get over Grissom.

The sound of the door behind her startled Sara from her thoughts. The door had been opening and closing constantly since she had been there, but something about the way it was opened this time let her know that the very object of her musing had arrived. She decided to keep staring ahead as he approached her side.

"Come on. I'll take you home," he said as he took her hand.

She couldn't respond, couldn't move. The embarrassment was too much to bear.

"Let's go," he insisted, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand.

There was that hope again, and it was her undoing.

She went.

----

_**IV. An Attempt; An Effort**_

It was much easier than he thought.

Regaining the ease of their friendship was difficult, but he had expected that. And the details about her childhood were just as painful for him to hear as they were for her to relive. But when the comfort was back and the walls were down, and he decided to make his intentions known, it was surprisingly simple.

It was almost two weeks after that afternoon in her apartment. She was no longer on suspension but was on her day off, and he was driving back to the lab with a trunk full of evidence. The storefronts of the city were plastered with pink, red, and white posters advertising various dinner specials, jewelry sales, and special wedding packages - all ending that night. He smiled and picked up his phone.

"Hey," She seemed to be happy to hear from him. A good sign, "What's up?"

"I'm headed back from a scene. You?"

"Reading, or at least I was."

"Sorry for interrupting. I can let you get back to it." He cringed at his sudden cowardice.

"No, no. This book is terrible. I have no idea why I'm even still reading it." She sounded nervous, and a little wary.

"What are you doing later tonight?" He hoped his tone came across as nonchalant rather than the terrified he was feeling.

She chuckled, "I'll be either still trying to get through this atrocity, or working on the next one."

"You want dinner?"

He could hear her breath falter for a moment. She was confused.

He clarified, "I'd like to make you dinner - at my place."

"Do you, ah, know what day it is?"

"Yes," he answered, nodding emphatically as though she could actually see his motions.

"All right," she responded slowly, "What time?"

And plans were made.

He was on the lookout for the right opportunity to give her the speech he had been practicing for two weeks. It expressed his remorse at the way she had been treated for years, explained the reasons for his reluctance in the past, and stopped short of outright begging for one more chance. But somehow, she managed to control the evening's conversation. He was beginning to think that she was deliberately avoiding such a confrontation when, as they were both nearly finished with their lasagna, her mood changed. Gone was the friendly, confident woman with whom he had been sharing a meal; she looked unsure. And terrified.

"Thank you. For inviting me over."

"No, Sara, thank _you_ for coming."

"So um," she began, and he knew that the date had been too little too late. "Have you heard about that human bodies exhibition at The Luxor?"

_Huh?_, he thought.

"Yeah," he answered, "It seems interesting."

"I remember a long time ago when you said you'd always wanted to see the Hamman-Todd Collection. This seems like the next best thing, so... Do you want to see it? With me?"

"I would love to," he said with a smile.

She had been too kind to him. She hadn't rejected his advance like he deserved; she hadn't even demanded an explanation, or forced him to prove his sincerity. Their casual dates became more and more frequent, and ended with soft kisses and affectionate touches.

He eventually did give her the speech declaring his intent, to which she responded by inviting him into her bed.

Lying awake while she slept in his arms, it took all he had to keep from laughing with the joy he was feeling.

They were finally going somewhere.

----

_**V. To Move Away from a Place; Depart**_

Communication was always their greatest weakness.

At first she had let it slide; she knew his intentions were benign and forgave him quickly for occasionally saying the wrong thing or nothing at all. The times when he did speak words of affection more than made up for the neglectfulness.

Until he left for a month without informing her. She began feeling ever so slightly insecure about their relationship.

But he returned. He came back a better, stronger version of himself, with renewed energy for his job, both as an investigator and as a lover.

Then it had been her turn to leave without warning - to bury ghosts, reconnect with her mother, cut her hair, and learn what life was like when one actually _lived._

Once again, Grissom's haunted voice over the phone had sent her packing her bags for Vegas.

And now here they were again, sitting on opposite sides of his desk, having a conversation about a case.

Or were they?

"I mean, sooner or later, a relationship in stasis withers. You get angry. You need more than the safety of knowing that you're not alone."

Sara couldn't believe her ears. She looked at him pointedly, "Then he should have just walked away."

"Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he needed her to leave him."

"Who are we talking about right now?"

But she knew the answer. He was asking her to go.

She went.

----

_**VI. To Pass into Someone's Possession **_

The shelves are bare, the empty boxes he brought in hours ago now full. The scent of dust lingers in the air and, surprisingly, he finds it refreshing. It reminds him of being a young undergraduate in the library and the new worlds he knew awaited him then.

He thinks of the worlds that wait for him now, and smiles.

Briefly, he wonders what will become of the office that has been his second home for many years. Then he realizes that he doesn't care.

He recalls the final words he spoke to David: "It's the right time for me to go."

And it is. He walks through the halls of the lab one final time, and goes.


End file.
